The great Greek physician and teacher Hippocrates (460 BC-370 BC) described several kinds of cancer, referring to them with the Greek word "carcinos", meaning crab or crayfish. This name comes from the appearance of the cut surface of a solid malignant tumor, with the "veins stretched out on all sides as the animal the crab has its feet, whence it derives its name."

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I try not to sweat the small stuff. Really I do. But when I leave home, and leave my menagerie in the care of a house sitter, I am nothing if not explicit. The directions for the care and feeding of my four dogs and two horses (the cat got a reprieve from his Boston eviction until May 9th) come to a total of four printed pages, small font, single spaced with nice paragraph indentations and bold headers like EMERGENCY!! A walk through prior to the departure date is mandatory, to demonstrate the intricacies of the garage door and the cable TV. The house sitter is equipped for every possible natural disaster. The keys to the van, already loaded with dog crates, are left on the kitchen counter and the van itself has enough water, canned goods, leashes and dog food to last a good month. Thermal blankets are located behind the driver’s seat, just in case hell freezes over here in sunny Southern California. Flashlights are industrial quality, and batteries are included. You could say that I am a “Be Prepared” kind of person.

Last week the rare occasion occurred where my husband and I had different trips planned at the same time. He was going to Japan on business, and I had plans to meet a friend in Albuquerque for a three day getaway. I tried to round up the usual suspects for housesitting, but all were previously booked. So rather than cancel my trip, I took the plunge and hired someone new. She came over a week before the trip, loved the animals, memorized their names quickly, and took notes on top of my printed instructions. She said she would leave her own dogs at home with her daughter and that she had no prior commitments during the time that I was to be gone. I left home with a sense of relief that finally, I had found the right person for the job, and my parting words were, “Use the latches on the doors leading to the living room and please do NOT let those dogs pee on my brand new living room carpet!”

As I pulled through the gate onto my own driveway on Saturday night, the first thing I noticed was the horse trailer sitting inside. A horse trailer? My horses haven’t traveled in years. I briefly considered peeking inside the trailer, but I could see my own horses down at the barn, and decided to go inside. My dogs were lying down, relaxed, fed and happy–no worse for the wear. So far so good. My house sitter was seated at the kitchen table. She beamed at me and said, “I enjoyed staying at your house SO much! It was like having a vacation. I should be paying YOU to stay here!” She then elaborated, “I hope you don’t mind that I brought my horse over. He didn’t get along with the white one so much, but he was fine with the chestnut!” Seeing my look of surprise, she said, “I only wanted to take a little ride up the street to see the neighborhood. I hope that was okay.” I nodded numbly, wondering how far behind my horses were on their vaccinations. She then went on cheerfully, “The dogs all got along great—my Great Pyrenees managed to go swimming in the muddy stream, so my daughter and I had to hose him down with the garden hose but we got him clean, and washed all the towels.” I resisted the urge to run look at the certain hairballs in the washer and dryer. She stood up and said, “I’ll come back ANYTIME!” As she walked out she grabbed a large blue accordion that I had somehow missed on the way in. She smiled and declared, “The dogs loved my music!”

As the horse trailer crunched out the driveway, I decided to have a look in the living room. The stampede of pawprints were unmistakable, as were the large yellow spots on the white carpet that kept me occupied until around nine pm, when the sound of geysers through my open kitchen window led me outside. A trail of broken sprinkler heads crushed by the wheels of the swaying horse trailer created a fountain effect not entirely dissimilar to the fountains at Bellagio. Unfortunately the water was not falling on the grass.

Multiple applications of pet odor and stain remover plus one brand new Bissell vacuum later, along with a hefty repair bill for the sprinkler system, parts and labor, all is well with the world. My traveling companion said, “Did you call her? Did you yell at her? What did you say??” I shook my head. As I said, I try not to sweat the small stuff. After all, the “kids” are all right. Anybody know a good house sitter?

About

In 2012, I realized that my thirty plus years of practice as a radiation oncologist had provided me with an abundance of stories–happy, sad, compelling and inspiring–and that these stories needed to be told. Along the way, stories from my “other life” as a mother of three, a daughter, an animal lover, and an occasional world traveler crept in. I hope you enjoy my stories as much as I enjoy telling them.